Jack punched the intercom and summoned Layla Abernathy.
“I want you to contact Andrew McConnell,” he told her the moment she walked in.
“The Director of the local FBI office?”
“That’s right. I want you to ask him if any of his agents are involved in an investigation of the Warriors of God, Imam Ali Rahman al Sallifi, or the compound at Kurmastan.”
Layla nodded. “Anything else?”
“Don’t be upset if you don’t get any answers. Just report back to me. I want to know what McConnell says, word for word. His tone, his attitude, his inflection.”
“If you want all that, why can’t you talk to him yourself?” she asked.
“You’ll see,” was Jack’s only reply.
Layla left Holman’s office with a stiff stride. She could understand Jack Bauer’s being unhappy with the present situation, but she didn’t like being kept in the dark. Brice had kept her that way for weeks, and she’d had enough of it.
She didn’t care for Bauer’s manner, either. He was obviously a gung-ho, Type A, goal-oriented alpha male. The kind of guy who’d roll over anything or anyone who got in his way.
Layla had made some discreet inquiries about the man and wasn’t surprised to discover that Bauer had a reputation for being a loose cannon. Strangely, however, not one of Layla’s contacts had characterized him as political. Apparently, for Jack Bauer, career advancement wasn’t a high priority.
That impressed Layla, along with the man’s reputation for being one hell of a field agent. He was also tight with Richard Walsh at Langley, which Layla knew would pretty much absolve him of most Agency sins.
On her way down the hall, Layla accidentally bumped into one of Jack’s cronies. She froze when she saw the explosive in his hand.
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
“No worry, luv,” Morris O’Brian said with a smile. “It’s inactive. I could crack it against the wall and absolutely nothing will happen.”
Layla shook her head. “Well, do me a favor. And don’t, okay?”
Morris grinned and punched the bricks of C–4 with his fist. “See? Perfectly harmless.”
Giving Morris a wide berth, Layla headed back to her desk. “My god,” she murmured. “These L.A. guys are all loose cannons…”
Morris opened the door to Brice Holman’s office without knocking, bounced the bomb onto the desk in front of Jack.
“What have you learned?” Jack asked.
“At first, nothing,” Morris said with a shrug. “Only that the C–4 was manufactured in Hungary, and that it didn’t take a rocket scientist to build this thing. The bomb is right out of the anarchist playbook. Except for one little thing.”
“Okay.” Jack swung around in his seat. “Explain.”
Morris sat down across from Jack. “Simple timer, two bricks of military-grade C–4, right?”
Jack nodded.
“Wrong,” Morris declared. “Watch this.”
Morris took one of the pasty, gray-white bricks of plastic explosives in his hand and broke it in half. He opened the two sections like a pomegranate, and displayed the insides to Jack.
“Is that a rock?” Jack asked.
“A pebble, actually,” Morris replied. “From a New Jersey beach no doubt. The other brick has one tucked inside of it, too.”
Jack rubbed his chin. “That doesn’t make any sense.
Stones make lousy shrapnel. Nails are better. And with half the C–4 gone from each brick—”
“More than half,” Morris replied. “The explosive potential of this device is fairly weak. In fact, this thing couldn’t do much more than bring down the microwave tower where you found it. That would put CTU New York out of action for a day or two, no longer.”
“That makes no sense,” Jack replied. “Why take all that trouble to sabotage the communications array? With a bigger bomb, the same two men could have destroyed this entire complex.”
“It’s obvious they didn’t want to do that. They wanted CTU operational. It’s the communications and satellite system they wanted disabled—”
The intercom buzzed, interrupting them.
Jack answered. “Yes?”
“It’s Tony. We just received a security alert from Langley. We’re to increase the threat level at headquarters to Code Red immediately. Specifically, we’re to pay particular attention to our communications infrastructure.”
Jack and Morris exchanged glances.
“Anything else?” Jack asked.
“Well, I put in a back-channel call to Jamey Farrell in L.A. She told me there’ve been three attacks on CTU satellite facilities — in Boston, New Haven, and Pittsburgh These attacks were successful. The comm systems ar down at all three units—”
Morris cursed.
“That’s not all,” Tony continued. “I just checked the City of New York’s emergency response system and found out that the Fire Department was summoned to FBI Headquarters fifteen minutes ago. Apparently there’s been a
‘fire’ on their roof.”
Morris met Jack’s gaze. “What do you want to bet someone took out the Agency’s satellite capabilities?”
Why satellites? Jack wondered. What is it the enemy doesn’t want us to see? Are we even looking for the thing they’re so eager to hide?
A sharp knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” Jack called.
Layla Abernathy entered. “You were right, Special Agent Bauer. I spoke with Mr. McConnell personally and he blew me off.”
“What did he say, precisely?” Jack demanded.
She glanced at her notepad. “I’ll quote him: ‘The Federal Bureau of Investigation cannot comment on an ongoing investigation.’ End quote. Then Director McConnell added a personal aside.”
“Go on.”
“The Director said that Frank Hensley was a personal friend of his, and that he would rather burn in hell before he shared information with Special Agent Jack Bauer of CTU.” Layla Abernathy raised an eyebrow.
“So much for cooperation among the agencies,” Morris muttered.
Jack frowned and glanced away from Agent Abernathy’s curious gaze. I knew Operation Hell Gate would come back to bite me on this assignment. “McConnell stated that Kurmastan and its citizens were part of an ‘ongoing investigation.’ Is that correct?”
Layla nodded.
“Was that before or after you used my name?” Jack asked.
Layla frowned. “After, sir.”
“He’s lying,” Jack declared. “The FBI’s investigation is as dead as CTU’s. McConnell is just trying to throw us off by feeding us misinformation — or he already suspects some of his agents are involved with Brice Holman’s rogue operation and he wants to cover their asses.”
Morris shook his head. “With the satellite system down on the East Coast and the FBI keeping us at arm’s length, we’re effectively on our own.”
Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “What else is new?”
The intercom buzzed again. Jack answered, putting it on speaker.
“Special Agent Bauer? This is Rachel Delgado, Security. I wanted to let you know that I’ve located Deputy Director Judith Foy. She’s been injured in the line of duty. A traffic accident, according to the police. Right now, she’s a patient in Newark General Hospital.”
Jack watched Layla. She remained composed, but her expression had fallen. She was obviously upset.
“Thank you Ms. Delgado,” said Jack, disconnecting. He met Layla’s gaze. “I’m dispatching Special Agent Almeida to Newark,” he told her. “I want Tony to interrogate Deputy Director Foy as soon as possible.”